POV: Loona
A basement. Damp, reeking, and buried beneath the charred remains of some burned-out building. My nose stung from the stench—smoke, mold, and something else, something disgustingly sweet... Fear, maybe. We were suspended midair, chained to the cold brick walls by glowing golden restraints. They didn't burn, but they completely blocked any movement or use of powers. Dad, Moxxie, and Millie were right beside me—just as helpless. And those... Verosika's skanky groupies were here too. What the hell happened back on that beach? The last thing I remember was a blinding light and a voice preaching about sins... An angel?
From the darkest corner of the basement, a figure stepped forward. Tall, poised, with blond hair and piercing golden eyes that glowed with a peculiar, dangerously subdued light—dim, yet somehow more intense than a floodlight. No mask or exorcist armor, just a pale business suit. But the aura... The aura radiated raw power, something ancient, primordial. Light, but not the comforting kind—it made the fur on my neck bristle. It was him. The angel from the beach. And something about his face felt weirdly familiar, though I couldn't place why.
"Well, well, citizens of alcoholism, junkies, hookers, murder-demons, and a few lovely little doggies," he said casually. His voice was calm, almost lazy, but carried a distinct undertone of mockery—and steel. He slowly scanned the room with those radiant eyes. "So… who wants to live today? Hmm? Any takers?"
He acted like a complete psycho. One moment he was strutting around like some bored aristocrat, the next he was babbling nonsense about magical concepts and levels, addressing us—or maybe himself. At one point, he walked up to Moxxie with a dead-serious expression and asked if he was related to "that possum from the old cartoon." Moxxie nearly cried from fear and confusion. This angel was terrifyingly unpredictable. Fear blended with something else, something twisted—a sick sort of curiosity. Who was he?
Then his eyes landed on Verosika and her crew. Then on me, Dad, Moxxie, and Millie.
"Well, well, well… What do we have here? Hired killers?" He clapped his hands with an unnerving spark of excitement that made all of us flinch. "Perfect! Just what I need for a little research! Especially you," his golden eyes locked onto me. "Doggie. Show me how you turn into a human. Then back. Then human again. Come on now, don't be shy."
And I obeyed. Over and over. The chains loosened just enough to let me shift forms, then immediately tightened again. It was humiliating. Filthy. I could feel his gaze dissecting me like some experiment. He muttered under his breath—something about "concepts," "illusions," "innate abilities," and "energy signatures." It wasn't just torment. He was studying me. Really studying me.
Eventually, when I was barely standing from exhaustion and shame, he suddenly lost interest.
"Well then," he said matter-of-factly, like he was picking out fruit at a market. "I think I've decided who gets to live today. You four," he waved toward us, "are free for now. I've got plans for you."
The chains released. We collapsed onto the filthy floor. Before I could even get up or say anything, the angel appeared beside me. He leaned in, and whispered right into my ear, in the same voice I'd heard back in the office that one time:
"Good girl…"
Then, softly—almost gently—he bit my earlobe.
A flash of déjà vu. Shock. I snapped my head up, meeting those golden eyes now dancing with mischief. A blinding flash—and the next moment, the four of us were standing in the dusty street outside the I.M.P. headquarters.
Him? Was it him in the office that time?
That same voice… that same bite…
The thought hit me like fire—mingling relief from our escape with the vile aftertaste of utter humiliation.
POV: Adam
Well, what can I say? It turned out to be both much simpler—and far more complicated—than I thought.
Watching Loona and the succubi shift forms, seeing the effects of their lust-based magic, analyzing the flow of their energy... I realized something: these lesser demons aren't powerful because they're skilled or individually gifted. No. The real power lies with their creators—the Seven Deadly Sins. They're the real damn cheaters.
Remember when I was theorizing about "zero-level magic"? Those innate abilities that require no energy or training—they just are. Like Sir Pentious creating his sentient bombs or hypnotizing with a glance. Or Angel changing how many arms he has on a whim. Turns out, these lesser demons—imps, hellhounds, succubi, incubi—they're all artificially created races, engineered by the corresponding Sins. Hellhounds are Beelzebub's "children" (go figure—gluttony and sloth?). Imps are Satan's spawn (Wrath). Succubi and incubi? Asmodeus, Lust. And so on.
Somehow, these bastard Sins managed to bake conceptual magic into the very DNA of their creations. Not fully conscious magic—more like instinctive, semi-autonomous triggers. Especially the Lust kids—those powers absolutely operate on a conceptual level. Satan, on the other hand… didn't seem to bother much with complexity. His imps are more brute force than finesse. Not unlike how I used to be, come to think of it...
So yeah, on the one hand, it made me feel a little better. It's not that I suck so badly I can't even match a low-tier demon—it's that their makers set them up with unfair advantages. On the other hand, it raised even more questions about the real strength and knowledge the Sins possess.
Why the theatrics, acting like some deranged lunatic? Because I needed to scare them. I wanted raw, real reactions. I wanted to know if demons could feel—truly feel. Fear. Love. Compassion. Why did I let Blitz and his gang go? Easy. Like I told Loona—I still need them. And I saw how that horned little pony-nerd looked at his daughter. That kind of worry? That wasn't fake. They have emotions. Even the "good" kind.
So I needed them free—and ideally not too traumatized by me personally.
As for the others… I'm keeping Verosika. And her bodyguard hound, Vortex. They might be useful. The rest of her little entourage of succubi and incubi? Background extras. Not plot-relevant. Perfect candidates for testing my little theory on "forced redemption." If they survive, I'll let them go. If they don't... well, that's their problem, isn't it?
I think I mentioned before—I don't want to kill sentient beings in cold blood. That hasn't changed. I still hate the idea of executions. But… in the name of finding a method to redeem sinners—even demons—in the name of saving millions of future souls? Yeah. I'm willing to pay that price. A few low-level demons who've spread plenty of evil already... That's a price I can accept.
Strange... Was I always this pragmatic? This ruthless?
("You were.")
The voice slithered through my mind—dark, ancient, and full of bitter anticipation. That voice again. The water god? Or someone else? Dammit…
"Well, well, my pretty little hellspawn," I said lazily to the remaining succubi and incubi. "Looks like you're going to die here, huh?"
Panic erupted. Screams. Begging. Verosika, snapping out of her shock after Blitz and his team vanished, became especially frantic.
"Please, Mr. Angel! Don't kill us! I—I can be useful! I can get you any info you want in Hell! I've got connections everywhere! I'll do anything, anything at all! I can serve you! Just—please!"
I scoffed. But… her offer had merit. Information and influence in Hell could be useful.
"Anything, huh?" I stepped toward her, looking her up and down before lifting her chin to meet my eyes. "Let's say I let you go. How do you prove your usefulness? Your loyalty? I need collateral."
She hesitated. Then her eyes dropped to the chunky ring on her finger—a glowing yellow gem pulsing with faint light.
"Here! Take this! It's the Crystal of Asmodeus! It lets me and my... employees... travel between realms and take on human forms! It's a powerful artifact! Please, take it as a pledge of loyalty!"
Well, well. Now that's interesting. A portal artifact tied to Asmodeus? A tool demons use to access Earth?
Jackpot.
"Hmm. Tempting offer," I mused aloud, pretending to consider it. "Fine. I'll take it." I reached out, dissolving her chains. Shaking, she slipped off the ring and handed it over. The crystal pulsed faintly in my palm—dense energy, layered, definitely spatially attuned.
Perfect.
"Well, splendid," I said, pocketing the ring. "Now, as a gesture of your... enthusiasm..." I leaned in close and whispered a few choice suggestions in her ear. She paled. Then flushed. Then nodded obediently.
"You may go. You too," I nodded at Vortex, who'd been silently watching the whole time. "You're her bodyguard? Keep guarding. You don't interest me. Now scram. And remember, Verosika—our deal."
They bolted, not daring to question their luck.
I turned back to the rest of the prisoners.
View from the Side
The basement was filled with silence, but it was a heavy, oppressive silence, saturated with fear. The only source of light came from the dimly shimmering golden chains holding the prisoners aloft, casting trembling, distorted shadows on the damp, mold-covered brick walls. The air was stale, smelling of soot, dust, and something else – a sharp, metallic scent of panic and adrenaline emanating from the demons.
The Angel stood in the middle of the basement, his light hair and calm face seeming out of place in this realm of darkness. He silently, with a kind of detached pathologist's curiosity, examined his prey – a dozen half-naked, terrified succubi and incubi, hanging helplessly in the radiant bonds. Their usual self-assurance and seductiveness had vanished without a trace, leaving only animalistic terror in their dilated pupils.
Finally, he slowly, unhurriedly, approached one of the incubi – a young man with lilac hair, who was trembling so violently that the chains jingled softly. The Angel touched his forehead with his palm. A flash! A bright, unbearable golden Light pierced the demon's body, forcing him to arch backward. And he screamed.
It was not an ordinary scream of pain or rage, to which the inhabitants of Hell were accustomed. It was a heart-wrenching shriek of agony, full of such horror and despair, as if his very essence, his very demonic soul, was being torn apart by the alien energy. The scream echoed through the basement, causing the other prisoners to thrash in their chains in panic, covering their ears, squeezing their eyes shut.
And then the scream cut off. As suddenly as it had begun. The incubus's body went limp in the chains, his head hanging lifelessly. A light smoke, smelling of burnt sulfur, rose from him. The Angel studied the motionless body intently for a few seconds, as if checking against some internal indicators, then just as calmly stepped away.
Silence once again reigned in the basement, but now it was even more terrifying. It was broken only by the ragged, sobbing breaths of the remaining demons. They stared in horror, sometimes at the motionless body of their comrade, sometimes at the angel, who was again slowly surveying them, choosing his next victim.
"No… no, please… don't…" whispered one of the succubi, trying to press herself into the wall, but the chains held her fast.
The Angel ignored her plea. He approached her. Again, the touch of a radiant palm. Again, the golden glow from within. Again, that same bloodcurdling scream of agony, causing the other demons to howl in terror and helplessness. Again, sudden silence and a limp body.
And so it went. The Angel methodically, with no visible emotion on his face, approached one demon after another. The choice. The touch. The scream that made one's blood run cold. Silence. He moved with a kind of inhuman precision and concentration, as if performing a complex but routine operation. Not a hint of anger, not a hint of malice – only the cold, impartial interest of a researcher. And that was the most terrifying part.
The demons who remained alive no longer screamed. They wept quietly, mumbled incoherent pleas, or simply stared at the angel with huge eyes full of primal terror, awaiting their turn. Some tried to break free from the chains, jerking and growling helplessly, but the shining bonds were unbreakable. The smell of fear and despair became almost unbearable. They heard the agony of their brethren, they saw the result, and they understood – there was no escape. The same fate awaited them. The only question was who would be next.
POV Adam
Well, I thought so. The experiment confirmed my fears. Demons like succubi and incubi, whose bodies and souls were originally created from the purest Darkness by one of the Deadly Sins, cannot enter Heaven through "purification" by Light. They literally have no way to hold, to retain Light within themselves for long. Their nature rejects it. If you try to forcibly fill them with Light, to perform something like the exorcist conversion, their demonic essence simply disintegrates. The demon doesn't get "redeemed"; it simply perishes, its soul breaks apart. I tried different methods: infusing Light slowly, quickly, in pulses, tried to stabilize the process with runes… but the result was always the same. Agony, loss of consciousness, and subsequent slow fading if I were to continue. So, my plan for "forcible redemption" for the native inhabitants of Hell doesn't work.
Now I need to find sinners whose souls have retained at least a spark of Light mixed with Darkness. And try it on them. There's at least a chance there, and judging by the fact that even Charlie succeeded in the canon – a big chance.
I dispelled the chains holding the unconscious demons. They fell to the floor like sacks. I toss them all in a heap into a portal leading to some dirty alley in Imp City. Let them sort themselves out when they wake up. I don't need them anymore.
Hmm. But Asmodeus's crystal… that's a truly valuable trophy. I could feel its power – it's clearly a high-level interdimensional artifact. I'll need to study it thoroughly, understand its principles of operation, perhaps copy the technology, or at least figure out how to counteract it. And only then, I can bring it to Heaven and give it to Sera. Let her study it and use it to upgrade Earth's defenses against demonic incursions. Or maybe I won't give it to her. We'll see. Knowledge first.
I twirled the ring with the yellow, pulsating crystal in my hands. It looked like an ordinary gold ring with a large, faceted topaz. But I could feel a complex, multidimensional structure within it. There's a lot of work ahead.
Returning home after the "experiments" and a preliminary examination of the crystal, I found Lute in the living room. She was reading some cookbook but looked up when I entered, and her gaze immediately became attentive, concerned. Apparently, my state after fiddling with the demons and the subsequent discoveries was noticeable even to her.
"Adam? Are you alright?" she asked quietly, putting the book aside. "You look… tense."
I sank wearily onto the sofa beside her.
"Tense? Perhaps. And angry. Very angry, Lute."
"What happened? Are the memories pressing on you again?" That morning she had seen me jump up at 5 AM, and my explanations about a "simple nightmare" hadn't quite convinced her. So I had already told her that when fragments of past memory return to me, I can behave a little strangely. I didn't even lie, it turns out. I just didn't specify that it wasn't Adam's memory.
"It's not just them. The main thing is, I learned something today. About the seraphim. And what I understood, I categorically dislike."
I fell silent, gathering my thoughts, trying to cast off superfluous emotions. Lute waited patiently, her gaze expressing sympathy and support.
"You see," I began at last, looking her in the eyes, "I was observing demons today. Ordinary succubi. And you know what I saw? They use conceptual magic for their influence on people! The conceptual level! A simple succubus, Lute! A low-ranking demon!"
Lute frowned noticeably, surprise and disbelief reflected in her eyes.
"A concept? But… we were always told that this is the highest level of power, accessible only to… well, the most powerful. The Seraphim."
"Exactly!" I clenched my fist but restrained myself from slamming it on the armrest. "The Seraphim know about this! Sera personally uses it! But at the same time, she tells us that this knowledge is 'too dangerous'! Dangerous for whom? For us, angels? And for demons, then, it's safe, since they use it so easily?! Why aren't exorcists, the elite of Heaven's army, taught even the basics of this power? Why did no one ever bother to teach me, the First Man, an Archangel, the commander-in-chief, this?! I had to figure out primitive tricks with Light myself, blindly, by trial and error! While demons, it seems, have wielded such power almost since birth – even the lowest-ranking ones! And I won't even mention their aristocracy! That Stolas calmly creates pocket dimensions! And we, angels, have to be content with primitive light beams and spears?! This is some kind of absurdity!"
I spoke quickly, but trying to restrain the anger seething inside, replacing it with cold logic and a recitation of facts. Lute listened silently, her face growing more serious and thoughtful.
"That… is indeed very strange, Adam," she finally said quietly, choosing her words carefully. "I never thought about it from this angle. We were always taught to obey, to carry out orders, to trust the wisdom of the seraphim… We were told that their ways are inscrutable, that they know practically everything and act for the common good. But after what you said… it truly sounds… wrong. Illogical."
"Illogical? Lute, this looks more like deliberate concealment of information! Sabotage! Deliberate weakening of Heaven! As if someone upstairs doesn't want us to be too strong. So that we can't really confront Hell on equal terms, instead of just conducting punitive clean-ups once a year. They are hiding knowledge from us, hiding potential power. Why? What could they be afraid of?"
Lute flinched and looked at me with evident fear in her eyes.
"Adam, please, don't say that! This is… The Seraphim! They are the pillars of Heaven! They can't… They couldn't betray us! There must be some other explanation! Maybe… maybe this knowledge is indeed somehow dangerous for angelic nature? Maybe it destroys the soul or demands some other price that we simply aren't told about?"
"Perhaps," I nodded, seeing her sincere fear and unwillingness to believe the worst. Her uncertainty was understandable, and shattering it by telling her I had already mastered simple manipulations with concepts would be cruel. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe there are reasons I don't know or understand yet. But I can no longer just sit idly by and blindly follow orders! Too many oddities have accumulated. Too many lies and half-truths around. Too many unanswered questions. Starting with their stubborn refusal to personally participate in battles and ending with the fact that Heaven's army, in terms of magical knowledge and skills, is significantly inferior even to a gang of hellish sluts!"
I stood up from the sofa and paced the room, stopping by the window.
"I'm not going to wait for things to sort themselves out anymore. I'm going to demand answers myself. Now."
Lute also rose. There was still anxiety in her eyes, but now it was mixed with the determination I knew so well.
"What… what exactly are you going to do, Adam?"
"I'm going to talk to Sera. And not just her. With all the Seraphim. I will demand explanations on all points. And I will be ready to listen to any answer. Or draw conclusions from its absence."
I turned and looked directly at Lute.
"Gather all the girls. Immediately. Let them be in full readiness and await my signal in the barracks. Arm them. With those firearms made of angelic metal that Carmilla gave us. Let them have their spears and swords too, but the main emphasis – on firearms. Just in case."
Lute nodded silently, without hesitation, her face serious and focused, but fear was hidden behind the mask of calmness. She understood – this wasn't just an order, but real preparation for something serious.
"Alright, Adam. I'll do everything."
I approached her and gently placed my hands on her shoulders, looking into her golden eyes.
"Be careful, Lute. I don't know how this conversation with the seraphim will end. But I have to do this. I have to know the truth."
"I know," she answered quietly, and her palm rested confidently on top of mine. "I'm with you. Whatever happens."
I nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for her unwavering loyalty and determination to be on my side until the end.
"Excellent."
I stepped back and created a portal leading to the main Council hall.
"I'm going to get answers."